Suite for Urthemiel
by Enaid Aderyn
Summary: A glimpse of the Elder God Urthemiel's journey.


_Dragon Age is BioWare's particular opus. _

**Suite for Urthemiel**

**Aubade.**

I leap from the heights and catch the winds, reveling in the strength and grace of this draconic form. The sun's warmth slips along my back in a lover's caress as I watch the landscape far below flowing past like a mottled green river. My shadow beckons to me, and I dance in the air to see it change: now increasing in size as we pass over a hill, now abruptly smaller as the hill drops into a ravine. I call to my brothers and sisters and they answer my song, each in their own manner.

_I am filled with life._

**Sarabande.**

We are worshipped, my siblings and I. The Tevinters call upon us for favors and offer up praises. They are clever enough to grasp our essential natures; festivals of music and art are held in my honor. It is amusing and my worshippers frequently create works of great beauty in my name. This is most pleasing, but for every offering, every prayer, I am expected to reciprocate in some fashion, to give away a part of my Self. It begins to feel as though I am beset by a swarm of biting midges, all desperate for their drop of blood before their tiny lives are spent.

_I am bemused and distracted_.

**Codetta.**

This body grows weary, perhaps a reflection of my spirit as I become increasingly drained by the importuning of my Tevinter worshippers. I seek the depths to rest, and I am not the first of my siblings to do so. I curl in upon myself and drift away to dance in the shadows of the Fade.

**Elegy.**

Something is horribly wrong. I am poisoned. I struggle to rouse; struggle to throw off the taint, but in vain. I call to my brothers and sisters, and they do not answer my song. Are they dead? Do they sleep? At the edges of my perception I feel smaller beings, offspring of this filth that is burning my blood and cracking my skin. Perhaps unwisely I ignore them and continue calling for my siblings, desperate for their support as I feel this poison encroaching upon my very Being.

_I am alone and afraid. _

**Rondo.**

All is wrong. All is pain. All is rage. My siblings are lost to me. Only the offspring of filth respond to my calls, yammering and crowding. I am twisted and tainted, and I call and call and call because that is all that is left to me. I call the offspring of filth and I will drive them before me out of the depths and poison all the world, yes, for only when all is equally tainted will I be able to create new beauty and find myself again.

_I am Madness._

Pain. Rage. Destruction. The offspring of filth swarm the human city at my direction. I turn my attention to seeking the highest point from which to oversee, and as I wing my way to the tower (lumbering where once I danced- this will be remedied when all is poisoned, yes) a human has the temerity to leap upon me from a rooftop. And more – I can sense he is poisoned as well. But not the same; not wholly consumed by the filth as the others, but controlled? Impudence! He stabs me and I shake him off, but as he falls he sinks his blade into the membrane of my wing, rending the length and crippling me for flight. I land clumsily on my chosen rooftop, screaming in agonized fury. Kill! Kill! Kill!

_I am Destruction._

Blinded by pain, blinded by rage, I am beset on all sides with blades and spells. At least one of my opponents is like that other – controlled poison – and I burn that insult at every opportunity, regardless of any offspring of filth that happen to be in the way. The roof is littered with death. One of my tormentors goes to slash my leg, and I kick him away; he saves himself from rolling off the roof with a clutch at a drainpipe. As I contemptuously flame the area, watching with satisfaction as the pipe begins to droop, I feel a blade rip through my chest. My forelimbs give out and my head strikes the ground. The poisoned one raises the blade again and plunges it into my skull.

_I am_

**Brio, rallentando.**

Freedom! In a glorious column of light the essence of my Being bursts from the broken, poisoned hulk that had become my prison. Rejoicing, my song rings with a long-forgotten purity, colored by the loss of my brothers' and sisters' replies. My awareness extends, only to recoil at the sensation of tainted fingers reaching, clutching to pull me in. I cast about in fear and find a golden thread, unblemished and promising safe passage. With relief, I follow where it leads.

**Nocturne.**

I am encompassed in warmth and comfort. My host, my...mother is projecting a sense of calm and reassurance. I find no reason to question this; indeed, she sustains me with her very substance. For the first time in my existence, I am the one to be protected, to be nurtured with no demands in return. No doubt that will change in time, after I have made my passage to the air, but for now I curl in upon myself and drift away to dance in the seas of the Fade.

_I am content. _


End file.
